Let Them Eat Cake
by Miss Semantics
Summary: A short two part story revolving around the Joker's first birthday in Arkham. Mild fluff between Harleen Quinzel and The Joker. My first fic so please review! :


"Let Them Eat Cake"

"Let Them Eat Cake"

Rating: K: For one curse word…

By: Miss Semantics

Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic, a mildly fluff filled moment between Harleen Quinzel and The Joker. This Joker is based off of Heath Ledger's undeniably sexy spin on the character in TDK. ;) Please read and review! I would love your suggestions!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story! The only control I exert is over their involvement in my fics! Please enjoy, but do not sue… :)

Today is my twenty eighth birthday, and the only reason I'm so cognizant of the fact is because of that beautifully silly Doctor Quinzel. It's a Saturday morning towards the end of July and I am sitting on a bed with the thickness of a saltine and the comfort of frozen cement, wondering for the millionth time why I was asinine enough to tell her my birthday. As hard as I try to convince myself that I was coerced by the broad into telling her I know that deep down, in the shriveled up black hole that is my heart, that no one living can convince me of anything. Hell would freeze over first.

It was in one of our weekly therapy sessions, Thursday to be absolutely precise, that the subject of my age came up. "Mr. Joker," she said in that voice that only a shrink could have, supposedly soothing but to me entirely forced, entirely not _her_. "Do you have any inkling of how old you are?" Instead of answering I maintained my favorite therapy session look: the one where my eyes turn dull and fishy, so glazed over and out of it I look almost cross-eyed. Any other Doc in Arkham would have thought I was suffering a mental breakdown and that perhaps the sedation drugs were working. Not Harl… Instead she moved her chair directly in the way of the corner into which I was staring and gazed at me fixedly. "Well Mr. Joker, if you are not willing to divulge the information maybe we can play a game to find out instead. I know how very fond you are of games." I break off the hang dog expression and put all the intensity I can muster into my eyes and stare directly back at her. 'It takes two to play game sweets.' I think to myself trying and failing to suppress an audible snicker. "So you're amused by the idea of a game?" she whispers almost inaudibly, smiling at me as she leans back in her chair. "Allow me to tell you the rules: I will guess your age and if I guess correctly, well I suppose my reward will the information. If I am incorrect you don't have to come to therapy one day next week. Are those regulations agreeable to you Mr. Joker?" I smiled at her broadly, emphasizing the Chelsea grin permanently affixed to face, and shook my head in the negative. "If I win I don't want to skip a therapy session next week. I want my makeup back instead." She looks at me considering the demand and shakes her head in affirmation, agreeing to my rules. It would be unwise not to. I continue to smile at her from my position on the couch thinking about what my age actually would be. I was born July 26, 1979 so I would be… twenty eight in two days. Damn I was getting old! As I mulled over how very unlikely it was for her to guess correctly she began to talk out her reasoning. "Well you don't appear to be that much older than myself and I am twenty five… hmmm… my guess I suppose judging by your physical appearance would be twenty seven maybe?" It was obvious to her that she had won due to the unsettling silence that filled the room, and the girl was _glowing_! She was so pleased that she was simply radiant with pure, unadulterated joy. "What day?" she whispered. "The twenty sixth…" I muttered begrudgingly.

As the guards came in to retrieve me from my _fabulous _session with the "prettiest thing on two feet", as the bumbling idiots referred to her, I wondered why I didn't lie, why I told her period. I sighed as the imbecile 1 and 2 tossed me on the floor of my cell in maximum security. I suppose it was because she looked a little too elated to be let down. I could always do that my next session.

End Note: Okay, so this is just the first chapter in a two part story… I apologize in advance for my lame portrayal of Mr. J. My original write of this story was just part two, but I threw in part one to give an intro. Please review!! :)


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